Dear Diary,
I cant believe what I'm about to write. My hands are trembling. Its morning and for the first time in the last twenty four hours I feel safe...
Things were going great at first. I went to the graveyard and did a few sketches (I've since lost them). Whilst I was there I felt like I was being watched, as if the spirits of those long since departed were peering through their earthen coffins.
I left the graveyard and made my way to the market square in the middle of Ferryway Village.
I could see the village lights off in the distance, the sound of modern punk echoing across the twilight.
On my way I saw the most peculiar sight... hundreds of rats pouring down the cobbled path out towards the fields.
I should have gone home then. Why didn't I listen to the tiny voice in my head?
Instead I took pictures with my phone, which now has eight images in total of the rats I saw last night.
It was then I felt that same presence again...stronger this time...
I cant believe what I'm about to write. My hands are trembling. Its morning and for the first time in the last twenty four hours I feel safe...
Things were going great at first. I went to the graveyard and did a few sketches (I've since lost them). Whilst I was there I felt like I was being watched, as if the spirits of those long since departed were peering through their earthen coffins.
I left the graveyard and made my way to the market square in the middle of Ferryway Village.
I could see the village lights off in the distance, the sound of modern punk echoing across the twilight.
On my way I saw the most peculiar sight... hundreds of rats pouring down the cobbled path out towards the fields.
I should have gone home then. Why didn't I listen to the tiny voice in my head?
Instead I took pictures with my phone, which now has eight images in total of the rats I saw last night.
It was then I felt that same presence again...stronger this time...